


We'll make it through

by missveils (Missveils)



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Children, Dragon Age II Spoilers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Dragon Age II, Trans Hawke (Dragon Age), What-If, graphic description of hanging, like literally after the last scene lmao, stanzas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missveils/pseuds/missveils
Summary: Hawke is sitting next to you, battered and bloody, eyes fixed in the early morning sky which should be rose and blue but is crimson and grey instead. He has one hand on your arm, holding tight as if he is scared you will dissipate into ashes, or jump overboard.None of this feels real and it shouldn’t be.Because you had one plan.And you had 3 endings.And they went...
Relationships: Anders/Hawke (Dragon Age), Anders/Male Hawke
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10
Collections: Dragon Age Den fic collection





	We'll make it through

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for littlegumshoe on Tumblr about their Hawke, Anders, and the baby they have together
> 
> (tw: description of hypothetical character death, description of hanging)

You can feel the rain through your bones and there is smoke in the air and filling your lungs. The ship back to the city sways and groans and the rushing sea and the distant screams are the only sounds breaking the uncomfortable silence that has fallen over the group. 

Hawke is sitting next to you, battered and bloody, eyes fixed in the early morning sky which should be rose and blue but is crimson and grey instead. He has one hand on your arm, holding tight as if he is scared you will dissipate into ashes, or jump overboard. 

None of this feels real and it shouldn’t be. 

Because you had one plan. 

And you had 3 endings. 

And they went: 

i. A kiss. The sharp bite of steel. The blood dripping on the cobblestones. Your knees buckling as you hold tight, tight, tight. Until you can hold no longer and the darkness takes you from his arms.  
Why would he do this?  
You say: “Because he is a good man.”  
Justice says: “Because he has killed better men for less.”  
This is the happiest ending you can hope for.

ii. A cell. The sun blinds you as you are walked out and up the steps. You count 10 creaking wooden steps and one broken one. Five verses of the chant of light and one noose around your neck.  
Some romantic part of you wishes Hawke was in the crowd, to find his face one last time. The most rational part wishes he never has to hear the snap of your neck. 

iii. Chains holding you down and searing pain on your forehead. Burning your dreams, your feelings, you. You cannot imagine how it would be, but you imagine a lifetime in the Kinloch hold cell, looking through a slit on the door. Never able to speak, to reach out, trapped inside their puppet. You would welcome death before this. 

But he took your hand and he said: “If you had told me, I would have understood.” 

And he said: “We will be fugitives together.” 

And it feels like reading a book, turning the last page, expecting a conclusion, and finding out text written over your hands, up through your arms and into your heart. You were hoping for an ending and now you have to live with the aftermath. 

You will have to hear the cries after the fire. 

You find yourself in Kirkwall, in an alley at the docks. You don’t remember walking off the ship into the city. You are sure everyone said their goodbyes, but you have no memory of it. Maybe you were not there. Or maybe you just… weren’t there. 

Hawke repeats your name a fourth time and you are back, seeing through your own eyes. He has wrapped his cloak around you and pulled the hood over your head and is holding you tightly by your shoulders. 

“Anders. I need to go home. I need to check everyone is okay and pick up some things. I need you to stay here and not let anyone see you. Is that okay?”

You nod.

“I am coming back, I promise. Do you believe me?”

You nod again. 

He squeezes your arm once more and you sit on a crate as he heads home. 

Home. You had love, a home, a warm bed, sunlight through the window, a roof over your head, a… a daughter. A daughter. And you were ready to leave all that behind. 

Why would you do that? 

Because Justice gave you three reasons. 

And they were: 

i. There is not enough status and reputation that will protect you from being a mage. If Meredith’s power goes unquestioned, in less than a year one word from her will mean a brand on you and Hawke. Lysandra will be taken to the Gallows where she will not know anything other than stone, chains and watchful eyes for the rest of her life.

ii. And if you manage to escape and hide as Hawke’s family did, your daughter will grow up afraid. She will learn to not trust anyone. She will learn to hate her magic. Or, worse, she will become you. She will take this burden. She will give her life for freedom. Nothing scares you more than this.

iii. Even if Hawke’s status is enough to keep your safety, there will always be others that aren’t as lucky. There will be other families broken, other children taken away, other people lying awake at night repeating these reasons in their head, trying to convince themselves that this is worth it. 

And was it worth it? Justice tries to make its presence known to answer but you drown it out. Not now. Not now. There is a whole life (however long) to ask yourself that question

You could have been sitting in the alley for a few minutes or several hours. The rain does not stop and the sky is still dark. It could have been days. You are ready to wait there until Hawke comes back or until you are found. Maybe he has come back to his senses and will tell the guard where you are. Either way, you will wait. 

But he comes back, a bag over his shoulder and a tight bundle over his chest. He puts the bag on the ground and kneels in front of you to check your face under the hood. 

“Making sure I’m still here?”

“Making sure you’re not losing your face to frostbite, love.” He hands you the small, swaddled bundle. “Can you hold her for a second? I need to get the other cloak.”

Hawke leaves Lysandra in your arms and you take her without thinking. 

It is only when you feel the soft breathing, the rapid heartbeat, and the warmth against your arms that you realize: It’s the first time you have held your daughter. 

Her birth. The plans. The clinic. The conflict with the templars. The last weeks had gone by in a blur. How Hawke had managed to get through them after bringing Lysandra to the world, was beyond anyone. 

And then there was your own fear and doubt. And the fear of doubt. You had kept yourself busy and distant. They didn’t deserve that. But it would have been more difficult for you. And it would have been more difficult for them, should the worse had come to pass. 

But at this moment, you hold her close to you and you cannot stop yourself from crying. 

Probably the first time in a few years. 

You cry loud and messy, screaming and shaking, your forehead against your daughter’s. Lysandra wakes up and, after a couple of seconds of wide-eyed staring, she joins in the crying. 

You feel Hawke replace the cloak over your head. 

“Maker’s Breath, what am I going to do with the pair of you?” He jokes, but you can hear the faint crack in his voice. 

You shake as you hold the girl close to you while she cries and grasps at your hair for comfort. Hawke’s arms envelop you and you hear him clear his throat twice before speaking: 

“It’s going to be okay. There is a ship leaving soon but we have to get going. We’ll sort things out when we are far away from here. You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay.”

Hawke helps you onto your feet and fastens Lysandra to you. Your legs hurt from the cold and you lean on him and your staff as you start to make your way back to the docks. It takes you a few minutes to bring the words out of your throat:

“How do you know we’ll be okay?”

Hawke has no plan.

But he has three endings.

And he whispers them as he helps you onto the ship: 

i. We’ll make it through.  
ii. We’ll make it through  
iii. We’ll make it through.

**Author's Note:**

> also some art from littlegumshoe <3 (https://littlegumshoe.tumblr.com/)


End file.
